


one cool, clear night along the waking sea

by kinpika



Series: lyrium high [7]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bethany POV, also a shoutout to shapeshifting ig, helping the HOF and other business, quid pro quo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “Go and be your charming,inquisitiveselves. Enough of a distraction for me to secure my cargo, yes?” Whilst Zevran’s voice remained light, Bethany noted that his clothing choice for this particular night was anything but. Normally, on the nights in Antiva that were set aside with messing with whatever Crows still existed, he wore an outfit that was ostentatious butrecognisable.Tonight, it was dark leathers, plain and simple.





	one cool, clear night along the waking sea

“So, what even was the nature of the request?”

Not the first probing question, and definitely not the last, but Bethany kept quiet as she followed. Head low, she ran through the orders she had been sent, smuggled through at least three different hands before arriving in her lap. So strange for them to make it so quick, and there was no doubt in Bethany’s mind that this was a serious matter — so serious, her Commander was even using it as a bargaining chip to throw her lot in with the Inquisition, but that didn’t make it any less harder.

Bethany had barely been given time to take in watching Saskia disappear into the Fade, unable to mourn when she was not allowed to be a _Hawke_. Sara Wolfe, irony not escaping her at the plain name and the similarities to a renowned knight and templar who was a newly dominant part of the Inquisition. Basilia had laid no concerns to rest, and now here she was, scouting out a location in the middle of nowhere, eyes noting Harding just ahead.

A warehouse, and to members of the Inquisition it meant nothing, but Bethany knew this land. Part of her training and tutelage under Basilia’s guidance had been drawn out here, between the lands of Highever and Amaranthine. Walking back and forth between the two for months on end, a friend of the Waking Sea by the time she had set sail for Antiva. Bethany could almost call it home, save for the deer she spotted out the corner of her eye. 

_Unusual_.

She was not the only one to see the great beast either. One of the other scouts, Lourdes (a name as fake as Sara), stood, bow poised, eyes narrowed. Why the immediate offence, Bethany could not understand, but stood between bow and deer with ease. Whispers circled her mind, and it took everything not to frown at those damn recognisable eyes. 

“Lourdes, we are not here to hunt,” she heard herself say, a gentle reminder at best, a fair warning at worst. Inquisition knew she was a mage of varying power, and that her ‘father’ was regarded as a remarkable templar. Never mind if anyone knew just what her blood contained, but Bethany was happy to settle with a face that twisted into the classically displeased mage, often seen along the coast of Kirkwall. Practicing it in front of a mirror prior to returning to Ferelden also helped.

Lourdes stared, and continued to do so, before finally lowering her bow. “Don’t you feel it?” she asks, a finger tapping the side of her head. “Something’s not right.” 

Bethany could almost feel the interest in Basilia peak at such a statement, and she would ward Basilia off Lourdes’ tail later. But now she had to wave it off, just as she had to wave off how her eyes glowed at night, and how her senses were far keener than those scouts who had trained for years. Just blood and luck, she had claimed, and would continue to do so until a time she was allowed to reveal herself. 

“I think you had something to drink before we left. You know the rules.” Leaning on her staff for effect, Bethany raises her brows in Lourdes’ direction, looking her up and down. Seemingly unimpressed, enough to bat Lourdes down a level while the deer still stood. 

Leave, she thinks. The others should be here soon.

A shame her Commander was so stubborn. If anything, the deer just casually strolled down the hill, passing by where Harding hid. Basilia wanted help so bad, and yet she was going to give their positions away. Typical, and Bethany didn’t expect anything more or less. 

“I should've taken it down,” Lourdes mumbles, but resumes her position, tentatively watching as the deer passed easily into some shrub a little further down, until it was out of sight. _Thank the Maker._

Whilst Bethany would’ve liked to comment that taking the deer down in some form would’ve just pissed off their potential ally, she kept that tidbit to herself. From the direction Basilia had walked, Zevran would have been near. It still amused them that no one thought to follow the scent of the Crows to find either of them, once they had received her letter about how people had so desperately clamoured to find her, _specifically_. Alistair had repeated his remark to Bethany earlier in the day, about how not a single person ventured to Antiva to find the Hero of Ferelden, despite the rumours that followed her not long after she had initially left Amaranthine.

Bethany had to remind him that that was almost a lifetime ago now, even if it was technically only a few years. She barely noticed how tightly she was holding her staff, and forced herself to relax. Focus on the threads linking her to tracking Basilia, her movements. A shift in the air, as if magic was moving. Quite literally a shift, and Bethany only stops to see how the Herald and Inquisitor clamour down the hill beside them, some of their inner circle in tow. 

They were lucky Zevran had already taken out most of the guards stationed around the warehouse, with how loudly they walked. Strange that the Herald hadn’t considered casting something to muffle their feet, as was standard practice for herself and those like her (but Bethany had to counter that Basilia was married to an assassin, who lived in the dark and quiet, and her training wasn't a standard for all). 

Harding moved to point out entrances, Lourdes and Bethany following. There was that man, Blackwall, hanging back. Still looking every way but at her. Alistair had repeated how the man had not felt the pull of the Calling, and how he too could not sense the taint. There was also a snarky comment, earlier, that if Basilia hadn’t had her hands full with whatever she was working on, she would’ve slammed down on the man like a ton of bricks.

Bethany noted Blackwall avoiding Lourdes. Interesting development.

Standing close, but not so close to appear she was capable of listening in, Bethany just watched the horizon. They were mumbling about particulars, factors, things left out in letters. What were they looking for? Well, Bethany knew the answer, she just wasn’t allowed to say. Couldn’t wait for the day she was allowed to pull back the hood, and be herself once again.

The taint drew closer. It took a lot of willpower not to settle in on gazing at where Basilia and Zevran would emerge from, and she had to shift on her feet, pass staff from hand to hand. Be idle and unflappable, as assassin revealed himself under a particularly low laying tree. It took exactly four seconds for Zevran to be noticed, and he did not even look her way. 

“You made it after all. Good.”

Zevran addressed the only two figures among the crowd who counted. Bethany could only watch as his eyes marked places in the both of them, signs of weakness perhaps, or strength, before moving on. Taking in the group that had been gathered. Was it to their liking? It took quite a bit to convince any advisors to lay down their swords, and for any martial efforts to be left to Herald and Inquisitor, plus a few choice friends. Bethany wished she was surprised that Varric had gone against joining them, heart beating hollow in reminder.

Eyes latch on to how Zevran’s necklace seemed alive, and Bethany had to stop herself from smiling. A snake. How oddly _appropriate_. 

“So, what is it you need us to do?” Herald Lavellan didn’t cut corners. She looked confused, uncertain, hands tense around staff, using it to support herself. Odd. Could she feel Basilia with them? Some younger mages that Bethany had met in the Circle once she had been taken in had commented that Basilia’s presence could be… _overbearing_ , like a great weight on the shoulders. Only if a person was not careful. Perhaps it was a reaction to that.

“Go and be your charming, _inquisitive_ selves. Enough of a distraction for me to secure my cargo, yes?” Whilst Zevran’s voice remained light, Bethany noted that his clothing choice for this particular night was anything but. Normally, on the nights in Antiva that were set aside with messing with whatever Crows still existed, he wore an outfit that was ostentatious but _recognisable_. 

Tonight, it was dark leathers, plain and simple. Soft and supple material, this Bethany knew. No outlandish garnish, save for what would be a neat set of writing on the inside of the chest piece, right above his heart. A poem, in several languages, wishing for a safe return. Basilia too, owned a set, but as far as Bethany was aware, hers still sat on a stand, moved only for cleaning. 

A sense of seriousness was presenting itself, now more than ever, and Bethany could only wonder what cargo truly lay beyond. Zevran himself could not hold a smile long enough to simply play the fool. Maker only knew what was going on.

“You called us out to be a distraction for you?” If that wasn’t disapproval in the Inquisitor’s voice, Bethany would eat her shoe. It rumbled and rolled, a vague threat of anger that Zevran only rose to meet.

Standing toe to toe with Inquisitor Adaar, Zevran was not fazed by looking up, at how Adaar loomed. “You help, friend, and my wife _will_ help you. And trust me when I say, having the Hero of Ferelden involved will benefit everyone well.” And he wasn’t wrong about that. If there wasn’t at least a dozen other things Basilia was wrapped up in, Bethany wondered if anyone knew she would’ve thrown herself at the Breach earlier. She just had at least five separate political dramas, a royal bastard to care for, warden business and family affairs to contend with. It was a miracle she had time to eat most days.

(and that was all only the stuff Bethany was allowed to know about. Who knew what else Basilia did in her time? Only Zevran)

“Where is the Hero to verify this, then? How do we not know you’re lying?”

Zevran looked absolutely displeased. Bethany didn’t know it was possible for him to look as thoroughly pissed off as he did, arms crossed, stance wide. “What reason would I have to lie?” From his tone, this was personal. Eyeing the snake that had moved to settle on his arm, Bethany wished she could read their minds. Why hadn’t they told her? Why hadn’t they just told the Inquisition?

Unless it involved…

Bethany wasn’t allowed time to think, as Zevran began to walk away. They followed him, and Bethany noted the varying amount of bodies littering the path. Several different ways of leaving this land, and she wasn’t the only one to see. A murmur from Lourdes, about how one man couldn’t have taken out so many so easily, had Bethany smile. Oh, how little did she know. So strange to think that their names had been lost. Clearly no one remembered how the Crows had practically been cleaned out overnight. Unless, southern Thedas truly didn’t care. Ferelden really was it’s own little place, sometimes.

Sitting wide open was the warehouse, people milling about inside. Bethany counted about twenty alone, perhaps more. Maybe she could understand why Zevran and Basilia had turned to the inquisition.

“That man there is who you need to focus on. Take him out, the others will scatter.” 

Bethany does not watch as Zevran points, instead noting how the snake he had been holding onto finally moved once more. Inconspicuously slides down Zevran’s leg, before disappearing into the darker parts of the warehouse. Whatever they had planned that required such baiting from the Inquisition didn’t mean anything positive, and Bethany opted to hang back. Perhaps a good idea, as Zevran finally looks at her, _sees_ her, eyes quickly flicking to a door on the right. Go in, she hears, and it’s Basilia’s voice. As quiet as a mouse, she hugs the wall, nearing the door. Jiggling the handle once she was in reach, she was unsurprised by the results. _Locked_. 

A grumble is in her head, and Bethany catches Zevran’s gaze for only a moment. _No_ , she could not sense anything on the other side. No taint, no heartbeat. The only other place worth storing something so valuable was—

“The ships,” Bethany mumbles, eyes adjusted to the dark now, seeing the boats rock with the water. 

Whilst the hiss of the snake was all in her head, Bethany could only imagine Basilia slide towards the water. This was going to be interesting. Zevran too had fled, leaving only the Inquisition forces to attract the attention of whatever men and women had holed up in this place. 

Perfect. 

Going back to the door, Bethany held one hand over it, ice steadily leaving her fingertips to coat the lock. Behind her, it seemed that the Inquisition had finally decided who would attack first, giving her ample opportunity. If she could open this door, in theory it would lead to the one further down, allowing her to get down to the ships. Times like this she almost missed barrelling through Kirkwall’s docks, following Saskia as she broke down doors — or made them. Bethany’s heart _hurts_ at that thought, and as there’s a clang of metal meeting metal, she snaps her fingers. _Bang!_

Throwing the door open, Bethany runs in as she hears people behind her fall. Thankfully the area was empty, people being drawn out into the fight perhaps. That, and whatever they had stored in here was worth a fair amount of coin. Holding out a hand, a wisp formed, floating a step ahead to allow her to read labels. “Grain… dried meats… wine…” aloud she reads. Any other day, this would be nothing, but considering people believed the world was going to end, Bethany would have believed this was a profit from raids. A shame for them, that the Inquisition was likely to take this soon.

_To the boats. Hurry._ Basilia’s voice was like a gentle caress, but the insistence, the concern, it was all there. Leaving the rooms, she arrived exactly where she thought she would. Right by the first ship, gently rocking in the water. Hugging the wall, Bethany stretched a hand out, and went blank. The first time she had ever done such a thing, it was so strange to feel people, the thrum of their heartbeats, as if her hand were against their chests. And that was just people like her, fellow Wardens, an especially useful ability for when they were in the Deep Roads. Basilia taught her how to detect the faintest shred of life beyond that, something she would never quite master, never quite get down to exacts, but it’s like a shock that goes through her whenever it happens.

There, in the second ship. Someone tainted sat, as did a collective burst of energy, towering over each other that she couldn’t tell person from person. But there was a crowd, and Bethany looked up to the ceiling to try to find Zevran. Live cargo indeed.

Just as she finds him, running across beams towards the ship, there’s an awful screech. A rumbling of earth. Bethany had never thought water was capable of groaning, but it did so, as a great serpent seemed to grow, head stretched towards the heavens. Basilia always did have a flair for the dramatic. 

In her mind, Bethany can only hear singular words, strung together rhythmically. _René. Myra. Haytham. Asha. Lucio._ It was like suddenly everything made sense, as the chant only grew as body hit the ground, and whatever people were left to fight screamed. Explained why they were so hasty, why they would throw themselves at the Inquisition for help, without saying why. In the destruction, Bethany managed to run past Basilia’s great form, getting to that ship the only thing on her mind. Basilia was so calm and calculating, save for when people threatened her family — and she must have felt truly afraid, if they had managed to take her children.

Stumbling on the dock, as the entire world shifted with each landing of Basilia’s tail, Bethany almost finds herself in the water. That is, until Zevran has a hand on her, pulling her aboard. “Find them.” In all the years Bethany had known Zevran, she had never known him like this. A fear there, in the corner of his eye, from the way his lips curl. His face is pinched, like he’s in a constant pain, anxiety shaking him. Placing a hand over where his still held onto her, Bethany smiled.

“I’ll find them, Zevran. Go.”

Just as they look over, it seemed a man had a bright idea to stick a sword through the end of Basilia’s tail. Almost immediately, he was sailing overhead, and it was the first smile Zevran had cracked that day. “Alright.”

Turning before Zevran ran off, Bethany made her way to the hold. Thankfully, it was still left open, ladder down a little skewed but not unusable. Inhaling, a larger ball of light entered before her, shivering as the ship continued to rock. As long as Basilia was careful and didn’t force any damage to the exterior, they would be alright. Hopefully. With every groan, they were only getting closer to the edge of the docks, and there was no telling just how well maintained these ships were. 

Bethany squints in what light was provided, carefully placing foot, one after another, staff used to help keep upright. She could feel them, a thrum in her chest right beside her own heart. At the very least, she could sense the taint in René, so new to the Wardens and still so much more alive. 

As she walked past a series of shelving, holding all manner of food and drink, the boat lurches. A scream is the only indication she wasn’t alone, and Bethany runs towards the back of the ship, battling how the ground under her tips. Basilia, careful! Any protests wouldn’t make it on helpful ears, especially not when she finds metal bars, a little awfully rusted, but set out in a way that it was clearly a prison.

And there, huddled in the dark, were what all the fuss was about. Waving her hands, she finds torches, touches them with a light that would not spread along wood, releasing the wisp as she went. Warmth, if anything, because only the Maker would know how long they had been kept down here. A large part of Bethany hoped that it had only been for the day, at the very least. If any of them had been kept in the hold, at the risk of their health, Basilia would likely turn the entire area to ash and rubble.

Stepping closer, extending a hand towards the locks, Bethany almost misses the question. “Mama?” one of them (she thinks it was Lucio) calls, and she stops. 

“No… it’s Bethany.”

“ _Tía_?” That was definitely Haytham’s voice at the back there. Good, they were all kept together at least. 

“Stand back from the door.” Same sort of magic used earlier, but this time she was more careful. From the sounds of it, the action outside had simmered down. Any moment, Zevran and Basilia would be in here, and the Inquisition would notice her own absence amongst their defence. Despite the loud bang, none of the children flinch, and Bethany flings the door open. No other people were kept in the ship, so either they knew who they were taking, or it was a first raid out of many planned. “Come on!”

Holding the door open, Bethany illuminated a path with her free hand. Myra was the first past, Asha in her arms. Not even a look spared her way, but Bethany saw just how frightened she was. The last child of Basilia to be found, and Basilia’s eldest. Last Bethany had seen of her, it was when she had participated in rescuing the young woman from some lord or other who had a business deal with Basilia that went south. In that instance, Myra just _happened_ to be amongst a crowd that he had threatened to kill. 

René was next, Lucio tucked under one arm, the other pulling Haytham along. At least René had some courtesy to spare her a smile, a ‘thank you’, before hurrying off to follow the elder one. Good, they were out. Once last glance around to make sure she hadn’t missed anything, Bethany ran after them. Now, she just had to appear with the Inquisition, make it seem like she hadn’t missed a thing.

As she’s sliding through shadows, time seems to slow down, with how Basilia stands from where she was over a man’s body, to how Zevran runs at their children. She can _hear_ how the bones in Basilia seem to click back into place, an unfortunate effect of not shifting for so long, but she’s raised, pointed and immovable. Slowly turning and for half a second, Bethany feels like Basilia _sees_ her, as she just manages to squeeze in beside Lourdes. 

A _thank you_ slips through her mind, and Bethany does have to grimace a little. If only they said something sooner. 

Basilia is quick as she follows Zevran, arms out and scooping up Asha or Lucio or Haytham or all three, maybe. Pulling in Myra and René against their protests. Her body is shaking and Bethany would believe it was genuine fear that went through her. Around her are murmurs, a nudge for Lavellan to step forward, _address_ the Hero of Ferelden who had fallen to her knees, holding her children. 

There’s a tap to her arm, Harding nudging her head in the direction of the door. Time for them to make sure they were alone, she supposed. Blackwall follows them out, and Lourdes lingers. Far too much drama, Bethany thinks, and lets the cool air hit her face.

“Where did you go?” Harding finally asks, eyes narrowed and critical.

Bethany doesn’t realise she’s smiling until she catches her expression in a window. “Nowhere,” she says, a promise on her voice that she _knows_ doesn’t reach her eyes. “Nowhere at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> in order of oldest to youngest: myra, rene, haytham, lucio, asha
> 
> lucio and asha are fathered by zevran. the other three by others. my warden is a good few years older and i always figured she was hence why the ages are so spread out.
> 
> rene is a warden (hence why bethany could sense him), myra shows signs of latent magic, rene and haytham are mages, lucio hasn't shown any signs yet and asha is only 4 by the time inquisition rolls around. who what when where why will come later, otherwise,
> 
> jazz hands


End file.
